Chapter 6
Paige arrived carrying a backpack and a pillow.
She came straight to me. We hugged so tightly that Aunt Lena told us we could let go whenever we were ready.
Celia stood behind her, looking exhausted.
“Grandma didn’t make me move,” Paige said. “Mom stopped her.”
“I’m glad,” I told her.
She glanced toward Lena’s dining table. “I was scared she would.”
Dad came in with another bag. Celia had decided that she and Paige would stay at Lena’s for the weekend while she found somewhere else to go.
Lena looked around her small house. “We can make it work for a few days.”
She put Paige in the room with me and made up the couch for Celia.
That night, Paige whispered across the space between our beds.
“I used to hear you crying after dinner.”
I held my stuffed dog. “I tried to be quiet.”
“I know. I didn’t tell Mom every time.”
“You told her enough.”
“Not at first.”
I turned toward her. “Why didn’t you ask me to sit with you?”
“I did once. Grandma said I would have to join you if I asked again.”
I remembered that night. Paige had passed me an apple slice after dinner. I thought she’d forgotten to ask me sooner.
“She scared you too,” I said.
“Yes.”
We were quiet for a while.
“Mom says we’re not going back,” Paige whispered.
“Are you okay with that?”
“I don’t know yet.”
I knew how that felt.
On Monday, Dad took time off work to move our things into the new apartment. Celia went with him to Grandma’s house to get what she and Paige needed. Lena kept us until they finished.
I stood by the window with Paige, watching each car that passed.
“What if Grandma won’t let them take your piano books?” I asked.
“Mom said she paid for them.”
“She knew my box was mine.”
Paige pressed her lips together. We stopped trying to guess what would happen.
Dad called at noon. He said everything was in the van. Celia had found a small rental near her work and could move in the following week. Until then, she and Paige would stay with Lena.
When we reached my new apartment, boxes lined the walls. Dad had already put the round kitchen table together.
There were two chairs.
He noticed me looking.
“I’ve got two more in the van for visitors,” he said.
“Can we use all of them?”
“Of course.”
Paige helped me choose where my bed should go. We placed Mom’s wooden box on a shelf beside it. I asked Dad if I could have a lock for my room.
He looked surprised, then sat down beside me.
“You’re worried Grandma might come here?”
I nodded.
“She doesn’t have a key. I won’t give her one.”
“What if she comes when I’m home with someone else?”
“The people who take care of you here are me, Lena when we ask her, and Celia if she agrees. Grandma won’t be in charge of you.”
I studied the front door. It had a lock I could see from my room.
“You’ll tell me before she visits?”
“Yes. She won’t come in unless you and I have talked about it.”
That was enough for now.
The next evening, Dad came home from work at six. I had been at Lena’s after school. We went to our apartment together and made sandwiches because most of the kitchen was still packed.
He put one plate in front of me and one in front of himself.
“It’s the first dinner here,” he said.
I looked at the empty chairs.
“Can we invite Paige tomorrow?”
“I’ll call Celia.”
Before he could, someone knocked.
Grandma stood outside holding a covered dish.
Dad kept the door partly closed. “How did you find this address?”
“Celia told me you were moving near the school. I called the rental office.”
Dad stepped into the hall and pulled the door nearly shut behind him. I could see them through the narrow opening.
“I made dinner,” Grandma said. “I thought Maya might like it.”
“She’s already eating.”
“She used to love my chicken.”
I did love her chicken. I also knew what it was like to eat it while watching everyone else laugh across the room.
Dad kept his voice low. “You can’t come here without arranging it first.”
“I’m her grandmother, Marcus.”
“I know. I’ve told you what needs to happen before she sees you.”
Grandma looked past him and caught my eye.
“Maya, I brought enough for everybody.”
My hands tightened around the edge of my plate. Dad turned to see if I wanted to speak. I shook my head.
He faced her again. “Not tonight.”
Grandma left the dish on the floor. Dad brought it inside after she had gone. He didn’t ask me to eat it.
Instead, he asked whether I wanted half his sandwich, because he had put the tomatoes on the wrong one.
I laughed. He traded plates with me.
After dinner, he called Celia. I heard him ask whether she had given Grandma our address.
“No,” Celia said loudly enough for me to hear. “I wouldn’t.”
May you like
Dad looked toward the door.
Grandma knew where we lived now. She had come once. I needed to know whether Dad would still say no if she came back.
